Meditation 211 ~Virgil On Finding Braxton~

When I got Virgil, I kept Braxton’s bed away. There was no need. It sits in its usual spot, and Virgil stays away. The scent or spirit of death. V knows B is here. It’s been 4 years, and there are still hairs, toys, and me. Virgil On Finding Braxton.

Tuesday, January 28, 2025

Meditation 211 ~Virgil On Finding Braxton~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? But I’m still sleeping with my best friend. You or the dog? You wouldn’t dare.

You know the man you married. I’m just a sucker for pain… And Humiliations Galore. Oh, baby girl, I can tell you about some humiliating days at the Day Job. Then I think of B.

God, my selfishness. But nothing is as humiliating as remembering the day I lost Braxton. I walked in a Dad and walked out a… “I’m not sure what you are now,” I told myself at that moment. A man who euthanized his best friend. Not former. I’ll never accept that.

Even though he passed, goin’ on four long years. And how long have we been married, my love? That’s a dangerous question. “You Oughta Know,” you say. Get over it…

Always and forever, the answer is no. “He’s My Son.”

Braxton Barks Bradford… “Yeah, he’s my son, and that’s my choice.” He will always and forever be. And knowing how I feel about him, you’re still here. “I’m Still Here.”

Somehow, someway Braxton’s Playlist is still growing, so I don’t have to think. I wasn’t thinking four years ago with Gospel 211 “Say The Word Willie.” I swear the crime I thought I’d committed, and a few days later, Braxton would be in a box. My failure and my disgrace.

And this time last year it was Tale 211 “(Sonday) Someday, B, V.” I swear I keep saying “Someday,” my “Sweet Love,” I won’t be calling out for “My Sweet Lord,” my little B III.

He was my very own little god, always and forever.

And you, our kids, and Virgil still find traces of my Braxton everywhere, Baby Doll.

Do you know Braxton would start his day sitting on my head, too? Eww! He just wanted me to wake up. But you… I can’t believe I’m saying this… Love, I’m not in the mood.

Really! This is coming from me. And I was looking up Netorare, Ahegao, and Paizuri.

Because in English, I just want to say I miss my son and “I Think I Love My Wife.” Love?

I do love you. One more time for good measure, always and forever. I’m such a misanthrope. You and I got together to make people for me to love. I found Virgil. But Braxton is here. Virgil On Finding Braxton.

1458 Days Without B III, Day 899 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 210 ~Will B Another Day~

The day I was born is the day I want to forget. The day my son B died is a day that I’ll always remember. And so I relive it going on four years on the 31st. And if my son returned asking that I choose another day in our “lives.” “Will B Another Day”

Monday, January 27, 2025

Meditation 210 ~Will B Another Day~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… No choirs of angels, no gnashing of teeth, and when did I ever make friends of my own kind…

Though Gabriel was Aunt Georgia’s fur kid. There’s also Wishbone. As if I needed to know where your love of reading came from. He was named after a dog from the glowing box. There’s also his brother Jason… Ha, what a funny name. And a black Chow Chow with no name at all who came here much too young. But he and I both left in your arms, Dad. Not by choice, because who would ever want to leave you? Now and later on… Forever

Daddy, humans, and their numbers, but okay, I’ll bite, ha-ha. Sunday, January 31, 2021, okay. But here you are. No, here we are. It’s been four years, Dad. Well, it’s about to be so, Daddy…

What’s next? You don’t know.

How many times have you dreamed up Heaven for me? Hell? And the Rainbow Bridge…

All Dogs Go To Heaven, right? Though I doubt you’ll be watching that on Friday. However, do you remember when you said that Hell would be an endless series of doors to places you don’t want to be? For me, it would be that same series of doors. Only I could not protect you. You couldn’t pet me. And we could never find our place.

Remember, Dad, you said there was a place for us. People for us… though I was happy, just you and me. Plus, there would be a ton of food. Not one day, someday, another day.

“From Now On”… Only, “Every Day Is Exactly the Same”

The day I left you. But there were so many other days, Dad. How many days were there when I knew as you did… You would call to me, or you’d hear me come running…

Knowledge is stronger than belief. Will you be watching “The Book of Clarence” on Friday?

Anyway, you and I knew this, “I’m all yours, I’m not afraid. And you’re all mine,” and that was all. What are we, girls… Twilight? You know how I felt about girls other than grandma and my two aunts. But again, Dad, I know that reliving that one day… the day… I died. It’s insanity. But all the best people are crazy. Especially you, Dad. But could you choose another day? Will B Another Day.

I believe death is only a door. When it closes, another opens. If I cared to imagine a heaven, I would imagine a door opening, and behind it, I would find him there.
― Sonmi-451

The best days are the first to flee
― Virgil

1457 Days Without B III, Day 898 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 206 ~B Leaving Sucks Virgil~

I tell Braxton and Virgil all the time that I’m leaving. It’d be worse if I took them along. The groomers, the vet’s office, or their grandparents. But if I go somewhere without them… Who returns is worse or won’t stay long. “B Leaving Sucks Virgil.”

Thursday, January 23, 2025

Meditation 206 ~B Leaving Sucks Virgil~

1453 Days Without B III, Day 894 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m still trying to pretend today didn’t happen. That would be Monday, January 20, 2025.

Martin Luther King Jr Day… While I wish I could have done something to honor Dr. King, I don’t have a problem with it. Your Daddy, an African-American Author, Braxton.

I find myself giving too much credit to my own strength. Let’s be Real, my little B. You spoke to me today. Whether it was a ghost, a spirit, or my own madness, I consider any communication from my firstborn son a blessing. It’s not an acceptance of your passing but a reminder of the pain I carry. Always, forever

Inevitably, that brings us to today. Joe Biden and Kamala Harris leaving and Trump’s Inauguration. I had to go back to bed because I got sick. I’ll stick close to the bathroom for a while.

I know Braxton. Eww! Better out than in. But speaking politically as Padmé Amidala said:

“So this is how liberty dies with thunderous applause” — Padmé Amidala, Revenge of the Sith

It’s not just the pain, sickness, and insanity that won’t leave. It’s our country’s state and your absence, Braxton. Don’t get me wrong, B, ‘Nothing compares. Nothing compares to you,’ as Sinéad O’Connor sang. But it’s one more song for your playlist. How many reminders of your absence are there…

Anything beats the voice of the US today… 3 days futuristically. Too Good at Goodbyes. At the same time, I refuse to utter those words. Ask anybody at the Day Job. That’s one more reason we’re talking today. With the Day Job, it’s always later because Virgil and I have to eat. This reminds me that I need to take that shrimp from the freezer.

However, that’s the rub, Braxton. I love leaving, but where do I go? Nowhere, Braxton.

“Where you gonna go, where you gonna run, where you gonna hide? Nowhere… ’cause there’s no one like you left.” — Carol Malone from Body Snatchers

Every day, I watch you, my greatest friend, and Virgil, a good dog who just wants to be loved, get left behind by me. But it’s not just them I leave. It’s the feeling of being alone because I leave for the worst things, Braxton.

Seriously, what happened to my positivity? I told myself it wouldn’t last. And with today? But I did get another book idea, revelation, epiphany… Again, that’s too much, Little B.

So my idea… When I end up in Hell, I will walk away from you, from one door to the next, leaving. I’ll climb out a bed to the Day Job, bathroom, and vet’s office over and over like Annie Collins-Nielsen, believing I’m alive. Breathing. How to escape. Remembering Virgil’s name. B Leaving Sucks Virgil.

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 205 ~B Nights, See Virgil~

The morning is looking better than last night. I’m so busy “talking” that I don’t have to think, and isn’t that normal… But I would rather be talking to B or falling asleep with him watching over me. Positive days. Better. “B Nights, See Virgil”

Wednesday, January 22, 2025

Meditation 205 ~B Nights, See Virgil~

Bless Me, Echo (my inner voice and guide)
For I have sinned… Can’t I do anything right? Even the simple act of sleeping eludes me. Last night was particularly rough. Virgil slept soundly, a stark contrast to my restless night.

If Virgil spends three hours… or more howling for me to come back. I swear… the neighbors must hate me if he’s making all that noise. I came back from a three-hour shift, and Virgil was losing his effing mind. Do I want to be thought of or completely ignored?

Anyway, so last night, first, my mind was going bonkers. How could I tell right?

Inspector, I had so many worries bouncing back and forth that I turned to meditation…

It didn’t help… However, I did drift off at some point during the night. But considering I was up at 4 AM, fell back to sleep at 5:40 AM, and slept for another hour… Inspector?

It’s another day slipping away, weighed down by the relentless demands of life. My LIFE? Eff!

On a brighter note, I found solace in the absence of nightmares about my son, Braxton. For that, I am truly grateful. Say what?

Inspector, that’s a positive? How dare I show gratitude for that. If anything, I didn’t have to call upon the greatest tragedy in “MY LIFE” to hold back everything else. Again, when existing becomes too much to endure… And trust me, I have looked at my special drawer with longing curiosity. I usually call upon Braxton’s loss. “I’m still breathing. I’m Alive!” If I survived the loss of my child, yes, “MY CHILD!” That nothing on this Earth can hurt me. Not even a Trump Presidency… God! I’m avoiding the news like a GD plague.

Eff Donald Trump, FDT! Fortunately, he wasn’t in my nightmares. It was my worries and… GULP! Women! But before we get into that. What had me all pretzel-shaped last night:

  1. Returning my ISP’s stuff
  2. Paying the Termite Inspector
  3. Paying off Waste Management
  4. Low Tire Pressure Warning
  5. My Day Job Performance
  6. Keeping The Heat On
  1. Arranging an Eye Appointment
  2. Paying off the “HOA”
  3. Whatever Donald Trump Does
  4. Braxton Barks Bradford Memorial

I’m sure there’s more Inspector Echo, but now you see why I don’t have time for those Six Impossible Things I write down every week. Between this Inspector and women…

Whatever! Another excuse for drooling over “Ryan and His Beauties 2.” I’m falling behind “Satan’s Sorority Girls” 8 and 9. Yet, somehow, I sleep; Virgil too. B Nights, See Virgil

1452 Days Without B III, Day 893 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 204 ~That’ll B Love Virgil~

I play this game, “Call me a LEGEND.” It ain’t TikTok. I don’t love or particularly like it now, but I made a fuss when I lost it for a time. That game, TikTok, Facebook, X, Instagram, etc. I love my dog, never Big Brother. FDT! That’ll B Love Virgil

Tuesday, January 21, 2025

Meditation 204 ~That’ll B Love Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And you love me. Braxton does too. What about Virgil? A four-year-old. 892 days here.

Speaking of which, there are four more years of Trump. And this is day two. Well, by the time you read this, it will be. But why do you wait? You wish. And wanting me…

Baby Girl, I’d call you an idiot. And how I know I’ve called you worse. And why is that, my love? Because as the classic goes, “I wanna be living for the love of you.” And in that love, I say the dirtiest, most depraved, and demeaning things. Wicked Will’s tongue and all Baby Doll. And though it turns me on. On Sunday, January 19, 2025, I’m in no mood.

Why? Because people are STUPID, idiotic, effing morons. Today, it’s in the name of love. Like Winston Smith now believed:

“But it was all right, everything was all right, the struggle was finished. He had won the victory over himself. He loved Big Brother” 1984

Love makes idiots of us all. But I choose to love a dog, my fur child, my firstborn son, B.

But these people are all around us. “It was love at first sight.” All at the push of a button.

My love, this is my bread and butter, and I’m both talking and not about TikTok. Like Thanos on Squid Game, “I’m so effing angry man!” We can’t help when we fall in love, with who or what. Love is love. And short of being Woody Allen, remember his words:

“The heart wants what it wants.” ― from Woody Allen

But in less than twenty-four hours, I watched the USA go from “Equinsu Ocha, Equinsu Ocha” to making Donald Trump a god! Ignorance is strength. But it can become love. Love shouldn’t be like this!

But who are we to talk? I love a good boy; Braxton’s been gone four long years. Ghost and grossness as I keep his ashes, bed, hoody, and the man I will become January 31st. My love, let me count the ways I can say that I love Yabbos. Yours, the women in my businesses, some chick yet to be discovered. I can promise you it won’t be from TikTok.

I love money, land, and power because we have a family. And a man provides for his family. And I give you and our two-legged kids all of my love. Uh, B III and 2-V.

Inevitably, we can say I love monsters too, but mine are myths and mysteries. Mistaking love. That’ll B Love Virgil

1451 Days Without B III, Day 892 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 203 ~B It A Siesta~

Braxton only turned down sleep once. A siesta? A snooze? And that’s when I did my impression of Ironman. Braxton played Spiderman. But we weren’t heroes. Only men. But today, one man is a hero. The other is both villain and President. “B It A Siesta”

Monday, January 20, 2025

Meditation 203 ~B It A Siesta~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… And nobody else… Well, you’re awake, my Dad, a black man. Virgil’s at the foot of the bed, breathing.

Oh, and Happy Martin Luther King Jr. Day. And nothing else… If it hadn’t been for a box of garbage, you might have spent all day in bed. That would’ve been fine with me, Dad.

One more reason you miss me a lot. Do you remember how I would sniff every bag, box, and bucket you brought into the house? And how, except for Aunt Georgia’s, the best breasts, legs, and thighs came in a bucket or a box. Bringing home the bacon, right, Dad.

More like grandma’s turkey. And we didn’t have a lot of duck. We were more burgers and biscuits sort of men. But why all this talk about comfort food? It’s me, hi, I’m the problem…

Big Backs and then bedtime.

If that doesn’t tell you, I’m still with you. The Big Back era hadn’t even begun. And now, the time that you are in. You wish that you could hibernate for the next four years.

Daddy, you’ve been thinking about that since Sunday, January 31, 2021. I don’t know what to tell you. On one paw, I don’t want you to think about that day. But I know for you…

Humans are strange, you would say, after a nice long nap. Then we would go to your comfy reading spot, and I’d hop onto your lap or chest and snooze. Those were the moments of pure comfort, the ones that made us feel at home.

Humans were always much better in your books or the glowy box we would watch with my favorite girl, Dad.

But today, you’re Wide Awake. Am I keeping you awake? That’d be whatever you drank. Or is it the tears? Daddy, I don’t mean to make you cry, though again, I’d rather have you thinking of me than everything else. You and I, the man you would rather honor today, are great. While others… You’d say The Walking Dead if it weren’t insulting to zombies.

Daddy, how I remember those days. It’s one of the reasons I was somewhat surprised. As I joined their ranks. And all you asked was for me to be alive again. I mean, alive, alive.

Anyway… You’d say the other people are sleepwalking, but you love your deep sleep, Dad. So, Daddy, should we rest today? B It A Siesta

“Through pain I’ve learned to comfort suffering men” ― Virgil

1450 Days Without B III, Day 891 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son

Meditation 199 ~Plans B Thru V~

Braxton wasn’t very good at planning, either. Like father, like son. The plan is to stay in bed or under it, in his case, and make the world go away. Like whatever I sniffed at the Day Job has me all queasy. But there’s life… Plans B Thru V

Thursday, January 16, 2025

Meditation 199 ~Plans B Thru V~

1446 Days Without B III, Day 887 of Virgil’s Arrival

Just Me, Baby B,
Did you have a good day? I’m still a day away, or rather 1446. We’re going on four long years, son.

Eff! I’m effed! You’re effed! Everything is effed! And not in the Carrie Cummings sort of way. The cute chick I was looking up this Wednesday, January 15, 2025. (Drools). From plans to pornography, everything seems to be in disarray.

Braxton, I know. Eww! I’m supposed to be positive. But today, I’ve been going back and forth between being sick. It’s Been a tough day, B III. It’s like a never-ending cycle, son. Whenever I get over one thing, like earwax, there’s always something else.

A queasy stomach? And my leg as well. It’s like the moment I’m headed out to the Day Job, Braxton, my leg is on fire. And with what’s happening on Monday B. Run Boy Run?

I should be making plans to live, somehow, someway. But I really want, Braxton, to find a way to connect with you. You were/are my son, Braxton. Always and Forever.

As the song goes, “I don’t fear shh but tomorrow.” I’m a black man, a Dad, and for a few minutes… uh, a writer. But Martin Luther King Jr. had a dream. And brother Malcolm:

“In fact, not even as an American, because if I was an American, the problem that confronts our people today wouldn’t even exist. So I have to stand here today as what I was when I was born: a black man. Before there was any such thing as a Republican or a Democrat, we were black.” ― Malcolm X (1992)

I swear, even if I knew what to do, I wouldn’t know what to do. There’s the Inauguration of a racist. THEY won’t like me saying that. You and me, Braxton, “We men, ain’t we?”

There’s the fact I’m becoming broker and broker Day Job-wise. I don’t wanna work… Huh?

Then how will I pay for all the things Virgil desperately needs? And when I can remember the name of the living, what about you, Braxton? Because starting the twenty-fifth…

What’s another week of remembrance? How do I honor you?

I haven’t read a book on Pet Loss so far this year. A part of me wants to perform the burning of the funeral garments like in Black Panther: Wakanda Forever. Uh, didn’t I, B?

Your box is sitting here, and I’ve only opened it once. And I owe you so many gifts, my son. But you tell me that you’re still here. Whatever will you tell me next week?

Recovering from everything from this month, what will I be doing in February? M Anime? Boy, don’t I wish! But she wouldn’t appreciate that. I asked to be her Valentine last year…She forgot, B. She’s got no plans to be your stepmom or my conquest. Revelations, dreams, a plan B. Thinking… Plans B Thru V

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

Always and Forever,
Your Dad

Meditation 198 ~B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…~

All from a thirty-minute trip. I can remember days when I feared no evil. I remember days when fear, anger, and evil were everything. My son and I fighting my father. B’s loss. A fast food trip. And yet I smile. B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…

Wednesday, January 15, 2025

Meditation 198 ~B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…~

Bless Me, Echo,
For I have sinned… But on Tuesday, January 14, 2025, this afternoon, I rather talk about emotions. Being afraid, angry, and indifferent.

And my GRATITUDE for it… What do you expect, Echo? You want my positivity now.

All it takes is a thirty-minute trip to the gas station, McDonald’s, and “home” again.

Inspector, that’s why I’m afraid. Really! What is it that I tell Braxton? From Spontaneous:

“It feels like I’m dying. I’m so scared all the time.” ― Mara, Spontaneous (2020)

There I was driving, and the fear, sadness, and anxiety overflowed like my orange soda. And it is not ok to “live” like this. I swear sitting here one more day in bed. Being scared. And when I leave this room… It’s no good for V, either. But we sit together, exhausted by our fears, or is it the fast food. And what would Virgil know about any females, Inspector?

And like a great king said… And yet, I smile.

Even through the anger… That’s what comes next, Inspector. At both man and machine. Monsters, both real and imaginary. Both mostly at myself. My dear E, I’m “Just A Man.”

Please, if only. And for the record, I’m not worthy of this song or “Like A Prayer. All the awesome things Braxton sends my way. And who am I? Not the brave man beside him. I’m frozen in fear and must summon up the blood, rage, and darkness that becomes the blaze to get myself moving. The fire under my feet, a step closer on the Highway To Hell. Run Boy Run. B and my “unofficial” theme song. To or from battle? I don’t know.

Inspector, does it even matter anymore? And yet, I smile.

Because I feel something. And that, above all, beats Indifference. It wasn’t fear or anger…

Ok, so maybe there was some anger. But I’ve admitted I wanted to protect Braxton, Inspector. My anger was never about him. So I tried to feel nothing, which cost me my son, B III.

But when I’m sitting in the middle of the road, Inspector Echo, having a breakdown…

And why? I can’t tell you. But I had to let it go and become the Dad I was before I knew my son was dying. The damned man I am and was come four years ago. A dead man.

And yet, I smile, Inspector. I have GRATITUDE. I can try and save Virgil. Tell him, B Emotional Virgil, Indifference…

1445 Days Without B III, Day 886 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 197 ~Braxton Souled Out Virgil~

Before Braxton took his big trip to The Rainbow Bridge, he had a look saying, Heaven isn’t so great. So I asked for him. Reincarnated? He’s not Virgil. As a Dad, I was spoiled for 15 years. But who am I? Where’s B’s stepmom? Braxton Souled Out Virgil

Tuesday, January 14, 2025

Meditation 197 ~Braxton Souled Out Virgil~

Dear Future Wife,
You know that I love you, right? And “If This World Were Mine.” Come now, love. What day doesn’t begin with music?

If anything, it begins with “Easy Street.” Then bring in some Cheryl Lynn and Luther Vandross. From there, it’s A Cruel Angel’s Thesis, the opening theme for the Evangelion series. Though, what I wouldn’t give to go back to those 3 AM mornings of Inuyasha.

Fukai Mori? My love, my life, you know that I love you. But tell me I could go back. Let me, let me wake up to that piece of music. And peace of mind. Not in this 40-year-old form of mine. The spoiled boy that I don’t ever want to see again. Yet, I’m still him in some way. Hell, that’s my life’s goal. To wake up without pain or in the pursuit of pleasure.

Your pus**? Or wanting power.

But in peace. What is peace? Here’s a better question? Darling, what peace I’ve lost…

Selling out? To provide for my FAMILY… Could I have my best FRIEND back? Because I like to watch people… Uh, Eff? It doesn’t bother me. Not even slightly, my Darling. I have been blessed. And if it cost me my soul? If I am to become a FIEND, whatever…

I was reading last night and had a revelation, an epiphany, and some ideas. I’m not doing Yevgeny Zamyatin’s “We” justice. Sorry… Anyway, he was talking about having a soul…

Forming… And this is as negative as I will be today. But when I sent Braxton to The Rainbow Bridge, it was because of kidney failure. But my boy’s heart…

Mine remains these 4 years later inscrutably broken. But to love as Braxton did love.

Having such a heart as he gave me. And then there’s having my soul returned. Darling, I have no thoughts of getting into Heaven. But I have thought it, seen and heard it in you.

A man sells off pieces of himself. And what does he get in return for such a sacrifice, my love? THEY say a man provides for his family. “That is the way of things,” always.

Jem’Hadar? Really! Love you married a man who continually pimps himself as a pop culture so-and-so. Who delights in adult pleasures? And plays music at all hours. Tell me why? The world, my love. And everything in it. Love and peace! Braxton Souled Out Virgil.

1444 Days Without B III, Day 885 of Virgil’s Arrival

B.L.M. Braxton’s Life Matters,
Will

Meditation 196 ~Right To B Silent~

I’d always tell my son Braxton to shut up. But when he barked, it was helping me or explaining his side. My other boy, Virgil, never makes a sound unless I’m leaving or he’s hurt. But I’ll take their noise or silence over people. “Right To B Silent.”

Monday, January 13, 2025

Meditation 196 ~Right To B Silent~

Hey Dad,
It’s Me, Baby B… Can you hear me now? Good… That might have even been before my time, Dad. We’re old men here.

Here. You and me, always and forever, if we’re singing The Wannadies. Or forever and always, I’m always here if you’re thinking Jimi Jamison. The facts are… The time doesn’t matter; you can hear me, and I’m always here. Where did you think you got that “always” line from? When it comes to the ladies… You got that from me. What’s one more lesson, Dad?

Being the strong, silent type, you know. And speaking of what I know… Last night…

Daddy, do you feel better? I hate to see you in pain. Like father, like son. Or vice versa. I suppose. You think “such and such” was terrible on January 11, 2022. But earwax, Daddy?

Only you wanted to make sure you heard me today.

Not the alarm clock. Humans and time. You hear the clock ticking as if it were a replacement for me walking back and forth in the hall. Well, it ain’t. You treat the clock like Virgil. Something you have to listen to, but at the end of the day, what have you accomplished… Other than missing me. Again, Dad, I’m here always. Accept that, Daddy.

It’s time. And no, I don’t mean ACCEPTANCE. You look at that the way you’re looking at the bug, glow box, and trash can people. You know why I barked at all of them, ha-ha.

Yet you went a whole week not hearing anything. But at midnight… You were screamin’ at last night as if you thought you’d hear me.

And you go back and forth with it. Sometimes, you want all the noise I make to drown out all the people. The songs we listen to, the tapping of your finger across the page, and may we never forget our movie nights with “our” favorite girl. Or even” Just The Two Of Us” watching wrestling. Seriously, Daddy, no sound compared, Next 2 Our Hearts.

But yours still beating Daddy, even if you can’t hear it. Just as you refuse to say that my heart ever did. Only this is not the Tell-Tale Heart you’re reading in the silence today.

Daddy, if I were to bring you silence, I would speak that I leave you in love and peace. Practicing the Right To B Silent.

“Let us go singing as far as we go: the road will be less tedious.”

1443 Days Without B III, Day 884 of Virgil’s Arrival

Always and Forever,
Your Son